


Honey, I won’t lie to you

by demonn



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, And angst, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Murder, Not a lot though, Ok I love baths, bucky is a brat and we know it, mentions of past suicide attempts, not a lot though but just enough to be angsty, so why not combine the two, some elements of Steve Rogers hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-11-29 01:11:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonn/pseuds/demonn
Summary: Or, five times Bucky Barnes took a bath and one time he took a shower.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Is this me??? Starting another fic??? Wow. Commitment. I’m literally living on coffee right now, although not as hot because my friend told me that with the amount I drank each day, my oesophagus was likely to be burned badly so yes. Here I am. Drinking only one cup of piping hit coffee per day. I’ve even started drinking tea. I’m pretty sure my body is struggling to accept the new change.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Comments and kudos are my lifeblood and I always enjoy seeing them so don’t be shy.
> 
> So yes, stay safe. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> Here’s the link to my tumblr blog
> 
> [Link to 20biteen](http://wilder13.tumblr.com/)

"I would reprimand you but I know it does absolutely nothing, spoilt brat." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly as Bucky bounced on his feet. "Go, go take bath. Not a shower. Fill up the tub and I'll join you when I'm done."

Bucky swivelled around, kicking the door open so he wouldn't leave bloody fingerprints on the handle. It would have been consideratehad he not already dripped blood all over the place carelessly. He was always so loose after a mission, eyes bright and smile fixed in place. Tony had never understood how he could find joy in killing someone, even if that someone was a hydra agent. But Bucky had always been strange, slightly darker than socially acceptable.

Tony loved him all the same, loved him pink-cheeked and blue-eyed, loved him when he was all fangs and sharp edges,m loved him when he was pliant and moaning and would sit there and take it like a good little boy.All that mattered was that he was his and vice versa, no one mattered when he was by his side.

He sighed again, throwing his tie onto the sofa and putting his empty mug in the sink, taking the small carton of remaining milk and the jar of honey Tony knew Bucky had bought just for baths,

He hadn't understood the man's obsession with the perfect bath, not until he'd realised that he'd only ever taken showers. Bath time had been a luxury and hydra had no place for luxuries. A hose had been sufficient and sometimes, when he was really caked in blood, he was given a flannel and a bar of soap. The whole process of washing himself had been a separate form of torture filled with freezing cold water and the acrid smell of blood and shit and piss.

Even after hydra, he had no time for baths. Not when the organisation was still on his tails and Steve was searching for his long lost brother (or whatever, the lines were murky) and he could barely step into water without feeling like someone was going to skin him alive.

Before Afghanistan, Tony has enjoyed baths and swimming and water related activities. After everything, though? Stepping into even a shower was all he could take, let alone submerging his body in a bath. The large tub was for Bucky benefit, not his, and that was how it stayed.

He took the bottle of vanilla as well, for good measure, and a few springs of rosemary. It was their (his) traditional detox method. After missions, Tony would get the milk and whatever, and Bucky would go and run the bath. Tony would watch and Bucky would do whatever he needed to do and they would go back to pretending their ghosts didn't haunt them and that all the vapours and fogged mirrors were only hiding what would always be there.

(After Afghanistan, Tony had all the mirrors smashed. After the death of Obadiah, he got rid of all the curtains and had the windows on permanent black out. When Bucky came, he finally stopped cutting himself on shards of glass and metal and accepted that it was time to start healing.)

Extremis _hummed_ with every step he made, writhing and struggling under his skin like some kind of rabid beast. It was, when you thought about it, but Tony didn't like to think about it, not when it symbolised just how much his life had changed for the worst.

The rushing of water grew louder the closer he got to the bathroom, Bucky's heartbeat a rhythm for him to time his steps against, steady and even and always there. He would press his head against his chest when he had the chance, let the steady thumps lull him into something close to sleep. Let the reminder that they were alive calm him just enough for the extremis to stop crackling in the air and all the lights to stop flickering.

"Tony? Is that you?" Bucky called out, more a precaution if anything else. Tony knew that the man could tell his heartbeat apart from anyone's else's in a crowd, he knew he'd memorised his breathing pattern and the sound of his footsteps.

"Yeah, it's me, Buckybear, I'm coming in so make sure you're decent." Tony kicked the door open, eyes downcast and Bucky slid into the bathtub, water splashing just slightly. He'd procured a pint of vanilla ice cream from somewhere, spoon in his mouth as he ripped off the cover with surprising inefficiency.

"Morally? _No_. Physically? _No_." Bucky smiled, shifting as Tony poured in the cold milk, letting the honey trickle in as well, swishing it around with his free hand before he dropped a few sprigs of rosemary into the water. "Thank you."

"It's no big deal, just doing what I always do," Tony muttered, taking a seat on the side of the tub, pouring in some honey scented bubble bath for good measure. "You deserve to relax."

"But I know you hate baths..."

"But you don't, and even though I'm sure I'll never be able to take a dip in a tub ever again I enjoy watching you take baths and I enjoy the fact that you're happy and you feel loved and-"

"Hey, Hey, Hey, _Tony_ , doll." Bucky's hand curled up against Tony's, placing the shampoo back onto the edge, dampening his shirt slightly. "Thank you, so much. For everything. I've done some bad shit in the past but you've just- you've made me it all easier for me for absolutely no reason and I just-“

"I know baby, I know."


	2. Chapter 2

"Lemons?" Tony asked, setting down the small knife with a satisfying clink. "What do you need lemons for."

"It's meant to make me smell nice," Bucky said, putting the slices in amongst the slightly orange bath water. He kicked his feet, watching the orange water slosh around, the sweet, bergamot scent suddenly stronger. "The bergamot and grapefuit too, I just wanna try somethin' different."

"This isn't about-"

"No, Tony. It's not about the fact that Steve seems to hate me and the team can't stomach me." Bucky's voice trembled with every word, hands shaking as Tony kneaded the shampoo into his hair. It was like the walls came crashing down, struck suddenly with a wave of something foreign. Emotion. Scalding, toxic, unreal negativity. "I just don't understand why they hate me."

Tony's body _howled_ , extremis burning him from the inside out. Bucky was amazing. More than amazing, even. He was a man with viciousness seeded into his heart, a man who had let the vines of danger grow all over him and still came out beautiful. A man who looked victorious even when he had blood on his hands and in his hair and a smile on his face.

He was the man that Tony had grown to love. A man Tony had loved even when he was covered in blood. A man Tony loved when he was covered in paint or ink or pure, heaven-born sunlight. The man Tony love despite the fact that there was a time where he was unsure of whether the man could even love.

(He'd found him in the kitchen one time, a knife in hand as he cut intricate designs into a piece of meat. Practice, he had called it, for when hydra comes knocking and there's no one around to judge him for it. He could love him like this, uncaring and aloof. He could love him later, when he'd simmered down and melted into something soft. He could love him even when he didn't think he deserved to be loved.)

"The team have different morals, different beliefs that... differ from ours, but Bucky, baby, they don't hate you. They were just surprised that you could do those kind of things."

"Surprised?" Bucky snorted. "They were disgusted, they were horrified. Cap looked like I'd just suggested we eat the man's heart raw."

"You have much more class than that, darling, you'd have it cooked." Tony tried for a joke, washing out the shampoo tenderly, but it fell flat between them, the room crackling in front of his eyes. "But it's justified, you want revenge. Who are we to deny you of it?"

Bucky paused, hands stilling. "Isn't the best revenge living well?"

"You can have both?" Tony shrugged, pouting the honey sweet conditioner over Bucky's hair, making sure to properly cover it in foam. "You can have both. I'll give you both. I'll give you anything you want. Whenever, whatever. Just ask and I'll give it to you."

Bucky flushed, sinking further into the water with a less than dignified snort. "I'm going to hurt you one day. Can't you see?"

"I look forward to it," Tony said, the truth of his words dripping from his mouth, sweet as honey but sharp as the bitter tang of blood. "I look forward to the day you'll hurt me, darling. I want you to be happy, happier than you've ever been, and I'll do anything for you to be able to be happy and content. Even if that means killing people. Even of that means bath times and loads of cake and trashy movies. Even if that means hurting me. I doubt you'll hurt me though, you're much too soft for that."

"Me? Soft? It could never-"

"Yeah, laugh it up kitten, but you're so soft. Soft like cotton candy and just as sweet. So soft for me."

"I can kill you once 50 different ways with my bare hands."

"An absolute kitten, a baby." Tony laughed, taking a sip of his coffee, stealing a bite of Bucky's cheesecake with deft fingers. "So-"

"I get the picture, Tones, I'm soft whatever." The small smile on his face grew, blue eyes shining in the bathroom light.

"I was going to say vicious but I guess you are soft. It's nothing to be ashamed of." He leant in, kissing Bucky's lips softly, licking away the taste of cheesecake from his mouth, tugging sharply on his soft bottom lip. "Down boy, no need to get so excited."

"You talking to me or your dick?" Bucky quirked an eyebrow, eyes fixed onto Tony's as the man slowly unfastened the first two buttons of his shirt, revealing his clavicle.

"That's up for you to decide." Bucky hummed, leaning in to kiss him again just because he could. Tony's thumb swiped over his bottom lip, edging in slowly as Bucky keened, eyes wide with lust. "Either way, it's an alright turnout."

"Everything's an alright turn out if you think hard enough about it. A coma? Long period of sleep, less stress, avoidance technique. Death? Your suffering ends, even longer sleep. Murder? Finally being able to rid your life of the person who you hate. Torture-"

"I don't need to hear that one." Tony groaned, hands flying up to cover his red face. "Wow, way to make my pecker go down. I can't believe you would use that method of making me go soft-"

"It worked didn't it? I'm not sure fucking away the trauma is all that great a method to use. Not when there are therapists and counsellors available for me to go and discuss my severe self-hatred with."

"Hasn't your bath water gone cold yet?" Tony asked, subtly avoiding the question. "And I wasn't trying to fuck away your trauma, I was trying to get you out of the bath so I could fuck away every coherent thought in that pretty little brain of yours, big difference babe. One is therapeutic and the other is so you can fall asleep."

"You could just play with my hair," Bucky pointed out, "same results and a lot less... messy."

"I'm trying to spice up our sex life!" Tony whined, though he took the man's advice, winding his fingers into Bucky’s wet locks.

"Spice it up some other way. Get me food. _Mexican_. And more of that cheesecake."

"Reduced to a willing house servant after everything I've done, all the hours I've put in? All the service-"

"Hurry up!" Bucky called, laughing and throwing his head back. "It's not like you wouldn't have it any other way."

Tony smiled, not that Bucky could see, pleased that the man was feeling good enough to add his own little digs and comments. "You're right. I wouldn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, two updates because I’m feeling good even if it is one am on a Sunday morning and I’m going to die. Hope you’re doing good wherever you are. Stay safe and have fun ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> (Btw, there’s a little bit of heated making out in here and talks of dicks. If that bothers you then don’t read from “I was going to say vicious”)


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky flopped uselessly in his arms, eyes shut tight as Tony fiddled with the taps, making sure the water was just on the right side of scalding.

Bucky had been wheeled in, suit covered in blood and eyes shut and Tony had seen red, seen blue and purple and sickly green. Had seen every colour available to man, had run all the figures in his head and then some. Had done all the calculations over and over and _over_ again until he was sure that the blue eyed man was going to be alright.

When he’d woken up he’d been screaming, _howling_ even. Blood-curdling, horror filled _screams_ that had ripped the heart from Tony’s chest and stomped on it. They were the screams he’d heard for weeks in end, a lingering curse in the back of his mind, the background music to go with the image of Bucky being sedated. Something monstrous to focus on when he thought it was all going to be alright.

But that was then, weeks ago, and they’d moved past it. They fallen back into their domestic routine with an easy grace. Had returned to the slow melody of the morning, the coffee making and pastry hunting rhythm field with soft laughter and tenderness that wasn’t meant to come easy to either of them.

But even weeks after, the event no longer fresh in their minds, Bucky still woke up screaming. Voice hoarse after kicking and flailing and crying in his sleep. He still woke up seeing blood where there wasn’t any and all Tony could do was make sure he was as comfortable as he could be. Make sure he couldn’t hurt himself more than he already had.

The water shut off, the water filled with bubbles and dark blue from the bath bomb. It was simple, slow, just what he needed. Tony slid him into the bathtub, positioning his neck on a soft towel, brushing his hair back from his face slowly. He wished he could kill every person who had ever hurt him, had ever added to his nightmares, every person who made him scream and tear and fray at the edges.

(He tried not to think about how you couldn’t kill people who were already dead. He tried not to think about how Bucky preferred his enemies dead in the ground. He tried not to think about just how emotionally and physically distant the man could be and how that left him with more enemies than lovers. He tried not to think about how unbalanced the scales were. He tried not to think at all.)

Bucky groaned slightly, eyes cracking over as Tony ran the sponge over his shoulders, fingers pressing into his flesh one only slightly. The metal plates shifted under Tony’s fingers, replicating the act of shifting muscles, lifelike yet not.

He’d tried hard to make the arm as human as possible even though Bucky stuck fast with his decision to keep the metal exterior. Princess Shuri had eyed him warily when he’d discarded the substitute skin he had made, eyes tracking the movement of his fingers mover every seam. Distrust echoed in her eyes, clouded every word she spoke.

(“You’re going to hurt him,” she had said, eyebrows knitted. “Before he even has the chance to hurt himself.”

“That’s not going to happen. That’s never going to happen, Princess. You should know that.”

“I won’t be surprised if you end the world, I won’t be surprised if you try to burn it down for him.”

Tony paused, gesturing to the old arm. Symbolism, he thought. The arm meant hydra. The arm meant every head. Hercules killed the hydra using fire. Tony had set the arm on fire and watched it burn, watched it blacken and melt and die. Tony was no hero, but he’d killed the hydra despite it.

“I already have.”)

She’d relented though, and Tony had walked out of Wakanda with a new arm and freshly signed contracts for the accords council just as he was meant to.

“It’s alright darling,” he muttered, noticing Bucky’s frequent whimpers. “It’s alright, it’s alright.”

“It’s red,” Bucky said, voice breaking on every word. “All I can see is red. You’re covered in red Tony.”

“I know sweetheart, I know. Go to sleep, I’ll protect you.”

“You can’t,” he cried, hand clenching around water. “They’re gonna come back and they’ll keep coming back because they have to have me! They still want me and they will never stop wanting me.”

“I know, Buckybear, I know. I won’t let that happen, I won’t let them get you.” Tony shook, head resting against the wall in an attempt You rid the dull ache in the back of his skull. He took a deep breath then another, eyes flicking closed. “Won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You can’t promise that,” Bucky uttered, voice slipping back into hazy territory.

“I can. I can do that and more.” And oh, he could. He could promise more than protection, he could promise his hands, his soul, his body. He could give all that to him. He could strip the divinity from his body and carve it into a blade. He could rip the every ounce of goodwill from his heart and give it to him in a jar, label it a weapon of mass destruction. He would give the man his mind if he could, would give it all to him if it made him feel better. 

Call it co-dependency, call it _anything_. Call it a word unchangeable and write it down in the dictionary. Get it spell checked and rewritten until it was carved into every available surface. Tony wasn’t good with words, not past what Bucky had taught him, but he wished he could make poetry of the way he felt. He wished he could show the man just how much he loved him, just how much he needed him. He wished he could cradle it in his hands and hand it to him. They were push and pull, two magnetic forces intent on doing something. A cacophony of chaos and energy. They were something unanswered and left to grow and god, did Tony nurture whatever they had.

He’d watered it every day and left it out on the windowsill until he was proud to call it fruitful. He loved Bucky, loved James, loved Barnes and his sweetheart and whatever name he was going by. Loved them all because they were his.

The bath water sloshed around Bucky, still scalding, the red of blood from under Bucky’s nail seeping into the deep blue.

“I’ve slain every hydra head for you, darling. No ones gonna hurt you anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. More angst and a third update. I am on a roll aren’t I!! I promise they’ll be fluff. But right now? I’m gonna dish out all the angst I can. I’m gonna load my plate with angst buffet style and hope no one decides to just kill me.
> 
> I’ve fucked up canon at the moment, I’ve taken it out back and shot it execution style, but it’s all alright. (I’m on incredibly thin ice right now, no one appreciated my capitalism during early morning monopoly and I’m ruthless at uno when I care and I’m sure someone spiked my coffee with poison but it’s alright.)
> 
> I’m reading my ao3 history out loud at the moment which should be embrassaing frankly because of the amount of smut I read but the group looks on the verge of tears because ha! I read more angst than is humanely possible.
> 
> Anyway, enough on my rambling. I hope you all are safe and happy. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> (Btw this chapter gets a bit confusing because I couldn’t resist shoving as many metaphors as I could into the last bit, sorry.)


	4. Chapter 4

Tony flung his bow tie away, stepping into the bathroom slowly, ears twitching to har Bucky over the sound of humming.

"It looks like you went a little overboard with the bubbles, babe." Tony laughed, sipping on his flute of sparkling lemon water. He offered the glass to Bucky, watching as the man striped to shift the foam with no avail, Tony scowl poking out from between the bubbles.

"There's no such thing as overboard with bubbles! Are you seeing this? It's new! I messaged lush about my love of their products and they named a bubble bath after me! Look! It's called 'Buckybear'! Can you believe it."

"Yes, I can actually, it was trending on twitter. Honey, vanilla and pomegranate right? Sort of cardinal red?" Tony hummed, looking more closely at the bath, blowing the bubbles off of Bucky's head. "With glitter."

"It's amazing," Bucky uttered again, filled with awe. "They even sent me a box of stuff inspired by me but not yet available to the public. Moisturiser, perfume, bath bombs. Even a shirt! It's amazing Tony, I can't believe they made me all this."

"You're ridiculously cute, baby, who could resist? And besides, you invest an extraordinary amount of time, energy and money into their stores and you rave about them on Twitter all the time. It's a gift."

"But they didn't have to," Bucky said softly, the soft crescendo of the music in the background finally slowing to a halt. "And I think that's the best thing."

Tony smiled again, stripping off his suit trousers and laying them on the towel rack with little grace. Next, his fingers worked at his buttons, extremis beating every little piece of plastic. He moved slowly, though, movements sluggish and stilted from a night of sweet talking rich people into giving him their money. It wasn't an activity he hated, but after a while,it became repetitive and mundane, his attention begging to be turned onto more important things.

The first free moment he had, he turned to Bucky's social media, flicking over every picture the man had, most of them of mundane little things that made up his day. It was a carefully weaved tapestry, each stitch another memory documented online. Each country, each hotel, each garden and bath bomb and trip into his favourite stores. Small smile photographed and shared with the world.

Tony had never understood, had always stuck to his little rants and raves on Twitter in favour of Instagram or snapchat or whatever. He'd allowed Bucky to deal with that, had allowed the man to grow and expand and learn how it all worked, learn how to draw in people that he would probably never even meet. It was adorable to watch. Seeing the expression on Bucky's face every time he discovered a new feature was something private, something he kept close to his heart.

"A lot of people like to do things for you," Tony commented, taking another sip of his drink. "A lot of people like you. Remember that old lady who gave you that creme brûlée for free."

"I helped her load all the stock into the back of her store though, it doesn't count."

"What about the child that coloured in your arm scribbles when you told her how nice her artwork was? Or the countless people mailing you fan art and love letters and poems? People love you. I'm pretty sure there are churches being built in your name somewhere." Bucky laughed, resting his head next to Tony's thigh, careful not to get any soap on his black boxers. "I'm very sure of the fact that your smile is being held up on a flag somewhere and people are just kneeling around it-"

"Tony." Bucky chastised, but he was laughing all the same, eyes scrunched and faint freckles accented by the glitter in the bathtub. "You're horrible, absolutely horrible."

"Someone's probably making fan fiction about you." Tony paused, rethinking his words. "I did read one love letter to you in the form of a fan fiction. Great poetic prose. I rated it a ten out of ten."

"Is that what you were smiling about earlier? Fan fiction me? When you have the real thing right in front of you? Maybe I should ask one of the adoring masses to take your place."

Tony growled, leaning down to bite sharply on Bucky's clavicle, groaning when he got a mouthful of soap. "It tastes nice for some reason. It shouldn't taste nice and even though the texture is off... I could probably eat this if worse came to worse.

"Are you talking about the soap?" Tony nodded. "It's got actual honey and pomegranate juice in it. Refrain from eating it though, I quite like having a healthy boyfriend."

"Me? Healthy? Not for long." Tony held his gaze for 10 seconds before he burst out laughing, glass toppling almost hazardously. Bucky soon joined him, the snorts and wheezes sounding the furthest thing from graceful. To some people it would have sounded ugly, but to Tony it was the most beautiful sound in the world, the galaxy even.

Bucky wiped a tear from his eye, blinking a few times before he finally stopped, clutching his stomach tightly as Tony carded a hand through his hair.

"People can't help but fall in love with you," he said, "despite the fact that you have the worst taste in books, always pick the same movies, never get anything new when we got to McDonald's and cheat at monopoly."

"I do not cheat at monopoly!" Bucky gasped, hand to his chest in faux shock. "I'm absolutely scandalised, completely shocked out my skin."

"I quite like you in your skin sweetheart," Tony said, hand wrapping around Bucky's wrist before moving in favour of running over his chest, dipping into every ridge and scar and memory of his triumph. "It’s soft but tough in all the right places and you have amazing, competent hands.”

“This tub has no place for kink, Tony, leave that to the bedroom,” Bucky said, blush clear on his face. “Or better yet. Don’t dirty talk me outside of our bed.”

“What about crazy locker room sex?” Tony asked, fingers teasing at the edge of his boxers. “Or maybe workshop sexy times? You know I love it when you call me da-“

“Tony!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on a roll. Need I say more.
> 
> (I really need coffee. And cheesecake. And one of those squeeze fans of whipped cream)
> 
> Hope you’re all safe and happy ❤️❤️❤️


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the song in this chapter is called: ‘wasteland, baby’ by hozier, who is like one of my favourite singers ever. His album ‘wasteland, baby’ is really good and I recommend you listen to it if you haven’t already.
> 
> Anyway, angst angst angst because it’s me that writing this and y’all know that I love to write angst because that’s my life in a nutshell.
> 
> On the topic of my life, I’m actually doing really well which is a huge surprise! I have slight anger issues (kind of inherited, but my own shitty personality is just fuel for the fire) but I’ve been really chill lately which you can trace back to my just taking a personal week. Plus, my friends have been really treating me lately which is amazing.
> 
> The next chapter will be a bit smutty which is well- I haven’t written smut in quite some time now that I think about it, and I’ve defo never written showed smut but it’ll be new and something to work on. It’ll be upmsometimes during the next week if I’m not too blue.
> 
> Anyway, I hope y’all are safe and happy wherever you are!! ❤️❤️

“Bucky? Bucky stop.” Tony turned the taps off, hand going to pull the man out of the bath beforehe decided against it, testing the water with his fingers instead. “Fuck,” he whispered, “why’s it so cold, babe?”

Bucky shrugged, reaching out for Tony instead of answering, pressing his damp hair to the man’s broad chest, eyes screwed shut.

“Come on, Buckybear, you gotta answer me.” Tony pressed his chin into the man’s hair anyway,scarred hands running over his back and what he hoped were comforting motions.

This, this was what he was used to. He was used to this, he was used to holding him close and tight and warm, he was used to making sure he was ok, he was used to the slow soft calm that came with Bucky.

He was used to watery sunlight and even more watery eyes, wet with unshed tears because Bucky refused to cry alone. (Tony had promised him he would never have to cry alone again. Tony promised him that he could have his hands whenever he wanted them, for whatever reason. Tony promised him Bucky could have his heart and anything that came with it. He promised him the world and everything that came after it)

“I’m sorry, darling, but I won’t know what you want unless you tell me.” Bucky shifted, arms wrapping around Tony’s neck awkwardly as he bit his lip. Tiny could hear the gears working in his head and in his arm, the minuscule sound of plates shifting a constant reminder of Bucky’s tenseness. He could ear his heartbeat, each flutter of his eyelashes, the small whimpers he attempted to hide in Tony’s chest.

“Just hold me,” he said, then as an afterthought: “sing to me, anything. I didn’t care. I just want to hear your voice.”

The words came out muffled, as expected, and slightly hoarse, but he sounded clearer than before.

Tony racked his brain for a song, flitting through all of Bucky favourites before he landed on one.

“ _All the fear and the fire, of the end of the world, happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl,” he started, voice a tad too deep, too dark._

Bucky relaxed all the same, relaxing under Tony’s touch. “ _Happens grace, happens sweet, happily, I'm unfazed here, too._

_“Wasteland, baby, I’m in love, I’m in love with you. All the things yet to come are the things that have passed, like the old enough hands, like the breaking of glass. Like the bonfire that burns, in worth, in a fight felt too.”_

He started to sway, carding Bucky’s hair away from his eyes in soft, soothing motions, trying to press as much warmth as he could into the man. He stayed cold, no matter what, just on the wrong side of lukewarm. It rubbed Tony raw, but he could pamper and fuss over Bucky later, when he wasn’t so devoid and limp.

“ _Wasteland, baby, I'm in love, I'm in love with you, and I love too-_

_“That love soon might end, and be known in its aching, shown in this shaking, Lately of my wasteland, baby, Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking, though quaking, though crazy, That's just wasteland, baby.” He curled in on Bucky, a fruitless attempt to protect him from his own mind. It hadn’t been his intention to make the man sob, but he could never control the other man’s emotions._

Bucky was a living, breathing being that Tony just so happened to love. One that he could protect despite the fact he couldn’t control him. He’d be damned (well, he already was) if anything would make Bucky sad again.

Tony was far from comparing himself to god, but he wished (more like _longed_ ) to be able to control something, anything, outside of his own life. Control it just enough to always keep Bucky happy. It would be the wish he died with and the one he would remember if he was ever born again.

“ _And the day that we watch the death of the sun, tha the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on. That you gaze unafraid as they saw from the city ruins._

_“Wasteland, baby. I’m in love, I’m  in love with you, and I love too, that love soon might end, and be known in its aching, shown in the shaking. Lately,  of my wasteland, baby. Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking. Though quaking, though crazy. That's wasteland, baby.”_

Bucky hummed under his breath, his breath hitching as Tony pressed a barely there kiss to his head. A reminder. Something to hold onto. “ _And the stance of the sea, and the absence of green. Are the death of all things that I've seen and unseen. Are men but the start of all things that are left to do?”_

Bucky moved his head from Tony’s chest, head tilting up as he opened his mouth. “ _Wasteland, baby. I'm in love, I'm in love with you,” he sang, voice tired from disuse._

“I love you baby. So, so, much. Don’t ever forget that.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! The end of a work! Multi chartered and completed, lucky me! Anyway, I’m terribly sick right now and I wish I could die but I can’t so I’m laying here, reading fan fiction and co pleating some work while I still have the time. I refused to think I was sick for a long time but here I am now, sick with strep throat, I had 4 nosebleeds and the fifth one was because I got hit in the face with a ball and keeled over. Anyway. My week was shitty. Fun, but shitty.
> 
> On a batter note, I finally managed to go and visit soho again and fuck around with some of my best friends, generally being a big, gay bitch with other gay bitches. They were the first people I came out to and were nothing but supportive of me and now we go out and obsess over stationary and drinks and people and music like big grown bitches. This was before I I got sick, btw, and I loved it.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading this!! 
> 
> I hope you’re all safe and happy ❤️❤️🙃

Tony stood stock still, hands longing to reach out the Bucky as soon as he stepped out under the warm spray of water. This, this was uncharted territory. This was not something Tony could record and analyse and make better, not when Bucky was standing there looking so lost and scared and sincere.

“You can touch me, ya know?” He said, metal hand reaching out to pull Tony’s wrist to his face in a barely concealed show of vulnerability. His thumb snaked circles around his wrist, the red indents fading just as quickly as they came. His grip was loose, and Tony could easily escape from it if he wanted to. He didn’t, though, he _wouldn’t_. Not when Bucky was handing this new part of himself over for him to press kisses to, this new self that Tony could bend and contort and twist until he knew every mannerism, every look, inside out and better than any blueprint.

“I know.” The words were pressed into Bucky’s collarbone, soft and intimate. “I just wanted you to touch me first. I wanted you to know you could back out any time you could.”

He thought back to the time Bucky got sprayed by a hose accidentally and spent half and hour screaming in the penthouse as Tony rocked him slowly. He thought back to when he confessed to Tony that sometimes even the way the tap sprayed scared him. He thought back to when he told Tony, sleep soft and dizzy, that his water was always on the right side of scalding because hydra had only ever hosed him down with cold water.

“You can touch me whenever you want, you don’t need my permission for that. Not anymore. You won’t hurt me, you have never hurt me.” Bucky paused. “I don’t even think you’re capable of hurting me. What we do in bed doesn’t count.”

Tony rolled his eyes fondly. “Why will I ever hurt you, baby?” He said, voice low, “what demon could ever make me think of doing that? None that live on this earth at least.”

Bucky hummed, hands reaching for the pomegranate scented soap Tony didn’t even know he owned until Bucky pressed it into his hand, still shaking, with a look. He paused for a second, holding the bar before it hit him all at once.

“Oh,” he muttered, reaching for the -already wet- loofah. “Me? Wash you?”

“You’ve done it plenty of times before and maybe it will take the edge off of things,” Bucky shrugged, “unless you want to try something that was more rated eighteen?” Bucky sidled up to him slowly, pressing tighter until they were both chest-to-chest, pressed flush against each other. “I’ve always wanted to do... _things_ , in a shower, and now that I’m no longer quiverin’ in fear with the mention of it...”

The statement hung open, and Tony grasped at it, pulling it close and tight and near. This. _This_ was permission. This was a sign. This was what he needed. “Yes,” He said, then again: “ _yes_. Yes until you say no, or I say no. But yes until then.”

Bucky smiled, backing away until he hit the tiled, shower wall, taking Tony with him. He hooked a leg around his waist, hands reaching up to play with his hair slowly. A slow flush rose up his neck, turning his pale skin a delicious pink. “Do your worst, Tony Stark.”

Tony’s heart thumped in his ear as he took Bucky’s cock in one hand, his other one gripping his hip to guide him towards his own pelvis. Bucky’s other leg snaked around his waist as Tony hauled him upwards, his mouth sucking and biting hickeys into his collarbone, eyes dark with lust as Bucky moaned, unashamed, above him.

“Tony,” he keened, hands trying to guide his head. “Tony, Tony, tony-“

Another high pitched moan was wrung out of him as Tony pinched his nipple sharply, tongue going to lave upon it almost immediately, making those red buds stand to attention. Bucky was sensitive down there and Tony swore that one day he pull focus all of his attention there, sucking and biting until his darling came, red hot and writhing under his hands.

There, right then, wasn’t the time for that though, not when Tony’s own cock was painfully hard and sliding against buckys in a slow, rutting rhythm.

“I know darling, I know,” he cooed, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before returning to his lips, finger shaped bruises fading almost immediately. “I’m going to take care of you though. I’m _always_ going to take care of you.”

Tony bit sharply onto his collarbone, the tugging in his hair just on the right side of painful, his cock producing copious amounts of pre-cum. He ran a finger through it, raising it to Bucky’s lips, moaning lowly as the man sucked it clean off.

“So goddamn stunning,” he said, “such a good boy, such an amazing boy for me.”

Tony wanted to see what he looked like coming on his fingers, water cascading down his back in small rivulets, but he had no lube in the shower and had not counted on Bucky initiating any sort of sexual act on his first time in one, but Bucky had always surprised him. Let it be a lesson for him to come prepared next time.”

His hand finally, finally, wrapped around their cocks, his palm slick with pre-cum and water (not the best lube substitute, but eh has to make do. Bucky sobbed, head thrown back as he let out a litany of ‘ _Tony’s_ ’ and ‘ _so_ _goods_ ’ and ‘ _more_ ’ and other words that belonged to Tony and only Tony.

Tony, himself, faltered.

His hand moved in a torturously slow pace that he could rectify, but chose not to. It was better to speed up when Bucky got to the point of actual crying, rather than comply to his whims and speed up right then. He was a demanding little shit sometimes, and Tony had to fuck all that tight coiled energy out of him before he got the better of himself.

A single tear slipped down Bucky’s face, urging Tony to go faster, grip just too tight, too hurried, too focused on getting them off now that he knew he had Bucky pliant in his arms, just the way he liked it.

He could feel the man’s thighs quiver against his hips, his legs shake in that tell-take sign that he was going to tip over the edge. Tiny hummed, rough and sultry, as he felt all that heat pool in his stomach, faster and faster and faster until-

Bucky cried out, sobbing as Tony but into his neck, climaxing into his hand, shaking under Tony’s hands. He mused again, a moan dragging its way out of Tony’s throat, then again, just tight and slick enough for him to tip over the edge.

Bucky laughed lowly, nuzzling his chin into Tony’s hair as he rocked slowly, watercleaning away the cum on his palm. “How’d you like it, doll?” Bucky asked, voice slightly uneven. “Was it as good as I thought it was?”

“Better,” Tony managed, “better.”


End file.
